


Hallelujah, My Angel (A Supernatural Fanfiction)

by aerynx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Character Development, Demons, F/M, Fighting The Darkness (Supernatural), Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Leviathans, M/M, Moose, Moose Sam Winchester, Multi, Nephilim, Purgatory, Season/Series 07, Season/Series 08, Squirrel Dean Winchester, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerynx/pseuds/aerynx
Summary: When Esther Sharp notices the rising murders in her college city, she begins to become suspicious and investigates the murders. Each college student murdered are in her Ancient History class, and she becomes suspicious that they all die of the same thing; heart and liver ripped out of their body. She accidentally becomes tangled into the murder spree and is held at gunpoint. She is told she isn't normal, that she isn't the average human, but before the killers could say anything more, she is saved by two mysterious men. What will happen when she learns the truth on who she is?





	1. Demons, Angels, and Hunters Oh My!

Esther descended down the long stone stairs of the Bloomsburg Library and made her way to Monet's cafe, which was just a block away. Monet's was a small, homely coffee shop that unfortunately couldn't compete with Starbucks, but Esther liked it because it was a fascinating place. The people in the normal, little environment made Esther's experience a bit more exciting. She noticed the red-headed teenage boy that came routinely who was determined to try every piping hot and icy cold beverage on the menu. Esther noticed the middle-aged woman that visited just to take a look at the different paintings hung in the shop and always wanted to see it they had replaced any. The woman would buy a small coffee to seem like she wasn't stalking the store, but Esther noticed her. Today, when she walked in, she noticed a few men talking over cups of hot chocolate, which immediately annoyed her because it was hot as hell and no one ordered hot beverages in 89

Today, when she walked in, she noticed a few men talking over cups of hot chocolate, which immediately annoyed her because it was hot as hell and no one ordered hot beverages in 89 degree Missouri autumn weather. She could see the steam rising from their cups, curling like a cat's tail. Esther frowned and walked in line to order her usual coffee. Maybe she could study better than her trip to the library. She couldn't get the two men out of her head, and would regularly check on them while she was in line because something about them irked her. 

But she turned back to the clerk, more focused on her iced coffee at the moment. The cashier was a tall guy with a large forehead and short dark hair. "How can I help you?" He asked. He was new, probably his first week, since she paid attention to everything and hadn't seen him around before. Esther knew her drink, and without looking at the menu or hesitating. "Um, I'll have the large caramel frap with coconut milk and two pumps of caramel sauce. Extra whipped cream, please." The tall man nodded and gave her a small grin. She could tell her already liked her, she had that calm and uplifting aura, her mom used to say when she was younger. The cashier fumbled around with the machinery and Esther snorted a few times, especially when he almost dropped the mixed drink. His nametag said, "Hi, my name is  **Dylan**." His young face looked to be Esther's age, maybe younger. He most likely attended Bloomsburg University too.

Finally, Dylan handed her the drink and Esther pulled out her cash fro her small wallet. Giving Dylan a smile, she thanked him and walked to a table far away from the two men who looked like they hadn't even touhed their steaming mugs. Esther told herself to ignore it, so she pulled out her computer that she had slung across her shoulder in her brown computer bag, and was greeted with the Bloomsburg Daily, the town's online and printed newspaper.

The front headline screamed in all bold lettering,  **"4th VICTIM CLAIMED IN KILLING SPREE"**. It freaked her out that college kids or anyone in Bloomsburg were not safe. The killings targeted college students, people attacking each other, and one of the killers even killed themselves afterward. She had even known them, all of the people involved shared a psychology class together with her. Esther's heart was heavy after she heard about the 3rd kill this week. Intrigued, but also scared, Esther looked at all 4 victim reports. Although they were highly censored, she had gotten the victim's death dates which were each about five days apart and had recovered where each of them died. She made a document on her drive and wrote down every detail that she could find that was audible through the internet. 

It had been about two hours later researching the killing when Esther realized that she should have been studying and her eyes widened. She silently cursed at herself and began to transition to her essay assignments. Being a Criminal Justice minor had its upsides; being interested in cases that involved forensics and criminal activity. A chemistry major, Esther wished someday that she could be a part of the CSI or perhaps the NCIS. But living in a small town in Colorado wasn't going to get her anywhere unless she could transfer to a larger school.

So Esther, unfortunately, went back to work on her stressful assignments, her eyes glued to the screen and her hands meticulously typing away. By six o' clock, she could tell that she was ready for dinner. Her brain was frazzled from the repeated memorization strategies and she leaned on the back of her chair, mumbling to herself quietly.

"That case..." She whispered and trailed off into her own thoughts for a few minutes. Her eyes wandered on the two men who were still sitting there, their mugs still in their hands, liquid undrunk. They were silent and both stared at someone. At first, it looked as if they were looking over Esther's head, but her eyes locked with theirs, and immediately knew that they were staring at  _her_. Her stomach turned, making Olympic flips like it was nobody's business and she wanted to throw up. But they were just two men. Why were they making her so nauseous?

One of the was wearing a nice suit, a white buttoned up shirt, black tie, and black blazer. He wore a large black earpiece that wired into his blazer pocket and was strung around his right ear, occasionally brushing his shaved brown head. His normal stern sent shivers down her spine and made her ears heat up. The other man looked Hispanic or Native American decent. The beady black eyes pierced her sight and he was an intimidating man, despite the 6' bodyguard looking man across from him. Every time that she blinked, she swore to herself that the bodyguard's pupils entirely turned black. Maybe she needed some sleep. 

The man frowned at Esther, who looked away, trying to seem interested in one of the paintings on the wall. The second man turned his head back to his partner, his pitch black hair slightly moving with him. The men looked old, but then both couldn't have been more than 40 years old despite the wrinkles and bags under their eyes. Esther, now feeling uncomfortable, quickly packed her belongings and made her way out as fast as possible, one hand on the bag strap, the other tightly clenching her phone. In case anything happened between her and the two men, she had 911 on speed dial. She wasn't usually on edge, but the stress and the mysterious killings were beginning to eat at her. Esther had a farfetched judgment which was way out of line for her, that the two strange men in the cafe looked like they wanted to eat someone, the dark-haired man's stare looked hungry and evil.

She shook the thought out of her head as she walked around downtown to get some dinner. Glancing back one last time with an anxious look on her face, she saw the two men still sitting at their small table, mouths still and eyes boring into her. It felt like everything stopped for just a moment as the raven-haired man furrowed his brows and quickly rose out of his seat. He was out of view for just a moment until he walked closer to the window. Esther was really freaked out now and quickened her pace. She decided to walk to the closest restaurant to escape the creepy men who exited the cafe, walking the same route as her. Maybe she was extremely paranoid, or her hunch was right.

Esther walked briskly to grab a bite to eat before her shift at the Tipsy Kilt Tavern as a bartender. Her sneakers made fast-walking easier, and a quick sprint to wherever she needed to go. But instead, she decided to play it cool until confrontation. Something irked her. _Maybe I can lose those creepers at my shift, hopefully before that,_  she thought. She tucked a strand of her black side bangs and continued to walk to Saladworks with her jaw clenched, and fear rising. Esther quickly shifted towards the Saladworks door and pulled it open with as much force as she could.

Her sneakers clicked against the tile until she reached the counter, staring at the different greens. A high pitched voice pulled her out of her thoughts and caused her to make eye contact with the speaker. "Esther! How're you doing? What can I get for you today?" Casey smiled, the girl behind the counter, and began to get a bowl ready. Casey was Esther's schoolmate, who sat behind her in Forensics. Esther occasionally visited her while she had her shift at the salad restaurant. But today was just a coincidence, and a hindrance because she sadly didn't have any time to spend wasting time. 

"Um, I'll have the cranberry salad with the roasted carrots and the paprika vinaigrette." Casey nodded, and her red hair that was pulled into a ponytail bounced. "How was your week so far? I saw Luca this morning, probably heading to Steve's place. Right?" Esther pretended to listen and nodded occasionally. But her feeling of being followed continued to creep her out. When Casey had finished the salad and packed it, Esther put the cash on the counter and grabbed the bag, and a dispensable fork. "Keep the change, Casey," Esther said. Although Esther didn't look back, Casey still wore a sad smile upon her face and tended to the next customer as Esther ate her dinner with her back to Casey. Esther looked out the window and feared what would happen at her shift. She had bad premonitions, never good ones, and the bad ones were always right. Every time she took a bite, she reminisced about her young childhood and when her mother when mentally insane. 

It happened one night when she was around seven, with her mother talking on the phone to her father who was always on a "trip" as she was watching  **The Muppets**. But all of a sudden she screamed, and when she peeked into the kitchen, her father was standing there, who she had only seen once before. She only poked her head out, so her parent's conversations were kept a secret to themselves, but she could make out a few words. It started out as a hug and kiss, but when her golden-eyed and brown haired father started to quickly say things, her mother began to cry and bawl. They hugged, but the only words she could make out was, "You're an archangel?" Esther kept telling herself she was dreaming, that _that_ _night_  was not real, or she misheard things.

When Esther swirled her fork around the bowl and could not find any lettuce, she looked down to see that there were only a few cranberries left in the white container. She groaned and threw out the bowl, including the two cranberries, into the trash. She slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way out without saying goodbye to Casey. She just had to keep her head high.


	2. The Tipsy Kilt Tavern

Esther walked out of Saladworks full, a little more confident, and satisfied. Now, she only had to grab her uniform clothes and drop off her heavy computer bag. As she walked with a smile on her face, and pep in her step, she thought that she should call her roommate, Luca. Luca rarely attended classes anyway, so Esther knew that she wouldn't be in her classes. 

As the phone rang, she could hear a loud thud on the end of the receiver followed by a loud "Shit!" When the phone eventually reached Esther's roommate's hands, Esther was cackling with laughter. Sure, Luca was a mess, but she always helped Esther feel at home in Bloomsburg. "Yello?" The tired voice asked, a yawn sounding after the half-hearted greeting. Esther smiled, picturing what Luca looked like on the other end of the phone. "Hey. I'm on my way back from Monet's. I got a bite to eat, heading back to our apartment. Where are you at" Esther guessed that Luca was either in their room (possibly hungover or drunk) or at her boyfriend's dorm.

"I'm at Steve's... Why?" Her voice sounded sober, which most likely meant she had been sleeping with her boyfriend at 7 in the evening. Sighing, Esther rung a hand through her hair, the nasty butterflies returning in her stomach. She looked around cautiously again, only to have the two men who were at Monet's, down a few stores. The man with the black hair stared furiously at her. Something was up.

"Well- Uh, um, I'm being followed right now. It's not funny, Luca. I'm being serious." Esther grew nervous, picking up her speed towards her apartment. "What? Is he at least  _cuute_?" Esther gulped and started to freak out as the two men began to walk, much faster now, towards her. 

"Not. Helping. Uh, you know what? I'm gonna go straight to my shift, Luca. C-Could you please bring my clothes soon? Please? It's a legit problem, Steve can wait." 

A loud sigh could be heard and a muffled 'okay' before the long beep signaled that Luca had hung up. She had her bad days, Esther couldn't deny that. But a majority of her days, recently, were pretty unbearable days. At least Esther had one friend to count on. Esther shoved her phone into her jeans pocket and hurried her way into the bar. As the door opened, a cold breeze filled with booze and regret filled her nose. Although many men came to find sex at the Tipsy Tavern, Esther didn't mind the place. People knew their manners and were pretty kind for the most part.

"Esther! Twenty minutes early, I see! But out of uniform," a boisterous voice carried across the room from the bar lounge. James, or Jimmy, Esther's boss, gave a bright smile and didn't seem very disappointed that she wasn't in dress code at the moment. He seemed pretty well, in fact, Esther had an inkling that Jimmy was on good terms with his wife again. Esther was engulfed into a big, hearty hug and she dropped her things so she could get right to work. Strapping on a dirty black apron, Esther smiled and faced Jimmy. 

"Luca's bringing the shirt soon, sorry I didn't get it. I was in a pickle." No one was at the bar or the stools at the moment but she lowered her voice anyway. "Two men have been watching and following me for about 2 hours now, and I can't shake em'. One's tall and bald and wearing a suit, the other's-" Her voice cut off as the front door opened to reveal the two men entering the pub, the same two who had been following her.

"Your intuition's right, Es. Always has been. And I'll deal with them." Jimmy twirled his short white mustache and walked to the front of the restaurant with a bit of fatherly pride in his step and confidence that whatever trouble was happening  _could_ be put to a stop. "Hey!" Jimmy barked, his arms crossing his black polo with the little logo of 'The Tipsy Kilt Tavern' sewn in red. 

"If you two are gonna stir some-" Jimmy started choking on his words, and his hands went right to his throat, clawing at whatever invisible thing had been choking him. The bald man held out one hand as if he had been giving the force choke to Jimmy, but his eyes suddenly were engulfed in black. Whatever he was doing, it was working and it was freaking Esther out. 

"Stop it!" She shrieked, her face contorting in rage and downright fear. The man loosened his invisible grip on Jimmy and he sank to the floor, gasping. Sadly, she and her hunch were right, but it wasn't the best time to congratulate herself as she was thrown into the bar buffet table. Her back slammed into the brick wall, shards of glass shooting into her sides as she fell on the broken alcohol bottles. 

She cried out in pain, extremely confused and scared about what had really pushed her, and why this was happening to her. She laid on the ground, sobbing and injured behind the bar when the tall bald man picked her up by her collar and swung her around so they would look eye-to-eye. But Esther refused to make eye contact with the man. She would not stoop to his level, she was not a violent or ruthless person. But she looked to the black-haired man who gave her a hungry and evil grin.

"We have won Ms. Sharp," he had said, his remarks making no affect on her. That was until the man picked up Jimmy who was unconscious and gave an even wider grin. "You know what I'm going to do to him? I'm going to  _eat_ him, slowly,  **in front of you**." Her eyes widened, and tears threatened to spill. Why was this happening to her? The raven-haired man was no human or being she had seen before. When he opened his mouth, the hole widened so that it nearly filled his face. Sharp, shark-like teeth lined the outer part of the of the mouth.

Hissing sounded from that creature, almost that of a cat until his mouth was filled with Jimmy's leg. Jean fabric and blood flew everywhere, and poor unconscious Jimmy awoke to feel the horrible flesh and bone being ripped apart and eaten by the man. Esther screamed with Jimmy, unable to do anything to help her boss. More fabric went flying, and droplets of blood began to flick onto her face. At this point, Esther was weeping and being held by the bald man who just laughed occasionally.


	3. Puzzle Pieces

Esther awoke with her hands and feet bound in rope to a metal chair. She seemed to be in some sort of abandoned warehouse that was fairly large and spacious. She was too weak to move anything, not even her head when she heard the two men speaking to someone over the phone. The man sounded American/Canadian and was very angry about something.

"Bring me the girl! I need her to tell us what will happen in the future so we can prevent the Winchesters and their plan! Chop, chop! I don't need to bib you, Edgar, do I?" Esther guessed quickly that one of the men was Edgar, and she guessed that whoever was on the other end of the phone was the boss for the mouth man. Edgar must have been the mouth-man, and that boss was probably one of them too.

The black-eyed man walked towards Esther and pulled out a silver knife, one that had jagged edges on the side which looked very unsafe. Then again, the two men/monsters had the knife to torture people. Or kill them...

Esther gasped as the man sliced her forearm with much vigor and precision, making sure that the long vein down her arm was split to create more blood that nearly squirted out her body. It burned like hell and the liquids exiting her body made her even weaker than she had been. 

"Mr. Roman didn't say anything about roughing up his kidnapees before the deals," the black-eyed man chuckled and did the same damage on Esther's other forearm.

They hadn't tortured Jimmy as much as they touched and sliced Esther, but the pain he must have felt was most likely astronomical. Esther hoped that he didn't endure the whole eating experience, and that his body went into shock before the monster reached his chest. Esther felt guilt that she was the only one to know the truth of Jimmy, seeing it with her own eyes had scarred her for life.

But the worst part was that when the monster had finished gulping down the head, he coughed out a hairball and turned into Jimmy. Every inch of him, including the clothes, looked like Jimmy. Oh, but she knew it wasn't him. And every time Edgar would walk near her or try to talk to her, Esther wouldn't listen. All she'd remember was her mother. Every word that came out of that slimy being's mouth was drowned out and ignored, because Esther would not communicate with them.

"My little chickadee," she'd say, before she was admitted to the mental ward and the custody was lost of Esther. "No matter which way the wind blows, no matter the speed, honey. Keep flying strong. Don't let em' see you cry." Every tear that threatened to spill and sob that was bottled up into her throat, Esther had managed to keep them locked away. She needed to stay strong for her, and her mother.

Another slice was made across her cheekbone by the jagged blade, and Esther screamed. Like a helpless sheep being sheared and prepared for the Slaughterhouse. Was she going to be killed? A gear in her head shifted, and a puzzle piece was added to the problem, clicking into place.

"So you're the murderers? You've been killing those poor, innocent people for your  _pleasure_?" She spat, looking at the black-eyed man's bloody hands. She could hear him give a throaty chuckle, followed by the blade near her face. She could see symbols on the knife while she peered through the corner of her eye.

"Every last one. Just to find you," he drawled, especially pleased with his evil deed. "Maybe if we let you go, you'll lead us to some more..." He trailed off, giving little information to the party. "More what?" Esther asked, seeing if she could persuade answers out of the men in order to end this problem. But how would she kill them? She wasn't a killer, she would barely hurt a fly let alone two monsters out of self defense. She didn't know how she could kill them, as of this morning Esther believed monsters were only a myth. Now, she could be a daughter of one of these things and she wouldn't have known earlier.

She was mortal, her wounds had no magical healing factors after they happened. She hadn't broken a bone, but Esther was fairly sure that she still had the need to eat, sleep, and urinate. The black-eyed man never gave a response, only a slam with the butt of the knife against her head which immediately knocked her out.

~~                                                                                                                                                                                                                         ~~

Blackness surrounded Esther as she fell deeper and deeper into her sleep until she found herself in front of a college dorm room where a tall young man with long-ish hair that covered his forehead and another tall guy with spiky dark brown hair and a face that seemed that it should have been young, but stress and bad accounts had drawn lines across his face.

They both had to be less than 30, but as more events of the two friends flashed by her eyes, the more things they had faced put stress and a burden on their backs. She had seen beheading, shootings, brawls, and tortures through their adventures. The older man with the darker and shorter hair had experienced what she believed was hell, being betrayed by a man who raised him from perdition, and loss in his life like she wouldn't believe until now.

The taller, younger one had been manipulated one too many times by creatures of all shapes and sizes. He, too, had experienced hell with the Devil himself, and had undergone a recent transition where his memories had been cascading down, and the pain too much for him to bear. Esther felt a slight attraction to him, as his burdens and compassion for the other man caused him to make selfless decisions. One last memory was shown to her before the blackness engulfed her again. 

The man who betrayed the older one had given his life and sanity to take away the torturous memories from the younger man's mind, currently stuck in a mental facility from the visions of the Devil with the forked tongue.

Esther spiraled once more through the void until her eyes snapped open and her head jerked back, awake from her vision-dream she had just experienced. But the strangest part was, the two men she had been dreaming about were currently untying her bound hands, right in front of her. Her eyes widened, and she gave them both a frightened, wide-eyed look. 

 


	4. Help Is Right In Front Of You

Esther was shaking, she didn't know what was going on. Her eyes darted around, her breathing ragged and uneven. Her breathing was raspy and loud, loud enough for the boys to notice that she was having a slight breakdown. "H-hey! It's okay, you're safe." The taller man bent down, squatting to her level as the other one untied her legs. Her voice strained as she tried to make out a sentence.

"W-where am I?" She stammered, still shaking and scared, because of the loss of blood and the uncertainty of her survival. The tall one looked into her eyes and responded quickly. "You were captured by two men. Do you know what they are?" The man's voice was calming, because of the care she could hear in his voice. Esther thought for a moment, her head spinning and weak, she tried to make sense of the situation and attempted to explain what happened. 

"I-I think that one of them is a monster, to say the least." She started coughing, and the man reached out to help her, but she continued to talk. "He ate my friend and then turned into him. Like a shapeshifter or something. What was he?" She wanted to cry again, but her drowsiness and nausea clouded her emotions. "Leviathan," the other man grunted as he pushed himself back up to tower over Esther. Esther was unsure of what a Leviathan was, and how her visions had to do with her, at all. That man looked Esther over, noticing her oozing red blood and turned to the first with a serious look, slightly shaking his head.  
  
The first man who was still squatting, stood up, blocking the pale light that had somewhat illuminated the dark room. "Can you stand?" He asked, holding his arms out in case she needed them for support. Esther tried moving her arms, but every time she'd turn them, gushes of blood found their way out of her body which made her gasp and inhale sharply. Tears pricked her eyes and she groaned.

"I-it hurts," she whispered, now fighting back tears, screams, and passing out. The man took her elbows in his hands and used the upper arm strength to pull her up and out of the chair. Esther winced at the slight pain but found it easier to hold herself up with her palms facing up so that blood wouldn't start to drip as much. Her knees almost gave way as she stood up fully from lack of standing for hours, but the man caught her, pulling her up by her upper arm. He tried to be extremely careful not to hurt her. Esther had too many questions at the moment but decided to keep them until later.

"T-there was another man. A guy in a suit and his eyes were entirely black." Esther wanted to know what she was up against despite her bad health and extreme injuries. "Demon," he responded. "Demons are real?" She said, now trying to walk but majorly failing. She had too much pride to ask for help, especially after her recent experience with the demon and Leviathan. But what if  **they** were monsters too?

Esther's eyes widened and she let go of the man's arms, afraid that they were tricking her. But her visions never showed the men having a bad intent to other people who they saved. Yet, she didn't trust  _anyone_ at the moment because of her torture. "A-are you-?"

"No. We're not monsters," the serious one spoke, interrupting her question. Pride came before the fall because Esther's knees gave way, and she crumpled to the ground with no route back up. Her useless arms refused to hold any weight, so she was stuck on the gound, emarrassed and upset. "Sammy, pick her up and take her to the car. I'm gonna see if those hell-bent  _things_ left any tracks." Sam, who was the tall muscular one, bent down to pick her up and carefully lifted her in his arms as if he carried 70 pounds, not 130. Esther wanted to blush or say thank you, but her voice cracked and she groaned silently. 

"Hey, take it easy," Sam said, his long caramel brown hair wisping with every stride he took. "What's your name?" Sam asked, kicking the exit door open with his right foot as hard as he could without dropping Esther or causing discomfort. Sam was a very nice man, despite that this was their first encounter. Sam realized his mistake, as he had told her moments ago to rest her voice.

  
"Uh, y-you..." "Esther. You're Sam, right?" She squeaked, her rosy pink lips moving, but hardly a sound escaped her mouth. Sam nodded, his hair shaking with his nod. Esther thought that was very cute, but didn't say anything. She had just met the man.

  
"That," Sam pointed to the gruff, serious man who had been scouting the building for the monsters and any evidence that he might be able to find and kill the two men. Maybe out of revenge for something they did to him, or what they did to her. It didn't matter the reason, Esther wanted them dead too.

  
"Is my brother, Dean. He's a bit rough, but he means well." Esther weakly smiled seeing the compassion in his heart. Sam gently set her down so she could lean against the boy's car as they finished their short lookout. She couldn't help but think and ask herself why she had the visions. She had the same thing about two years ago while she was still attending college and finishing her medical degree, but only considered it a weird dream too. It stuck in her head like a tick on a deer for months, and she could still remember the dream now, but she was straining enough just to keep herself upright.

  
The boys came back with confidence that the two men had gone, probably to the boss. Esther wanted to say more, to let the boys know that they had a boss. She wanted to say that she didn't know what to do. Her legs gave way again, and she collapsed to the ground, too weary and too exasperated to do anything else but sit there and wait for the boys.

  
Her computer bag was nowhere in sight and her phone lost as well. She hoped that her dorm-room was safe and that Luca was unharmed and still hopefully unaware of the situation. Esther sighed snd sat there with her legs sprawled out on the concrete parking lot ground. She was hoping that she would never see the leviathan or demon ever again.

  
Sam and Dean made their way over to the black GTO that Esther was leaning up against and looked to the shaking girl and gave her a light nod. "Scan's clear but no tracks, no footsteps. Nada. Nothing anywhere of a 4 meter radius of the building," Dean said, ruffling his short slightly spiky brown hair and gave a defeated sigh. Sam clapped a hand on Dean's bsck and tossed Dean his long reflective machete as Dean opened the trunk.

  
Esther didn't see what was inside as she was on the ground, back on the silver tire rim. The trunk slammed shut and made a clicking noise to confirm that the lock had sealed. Sam gave Esther a hand, but realized that she couldn't grab anything. He bent down to Esther and pulled her up from under her arms and heaves her onto her feet and into the car seat of the back.  
"Let's get you somewhere safe, Esther. Out of this place." Dean stooped into the driver's seat and turned the ignition of the car. Sam slid into shotgun and slammed the car door only to get an upset response from Dean. Dean frowned and Esther eyed the boys as they argued. "Dude. I know it's not the Impala, but don't hurt this relic." Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. His flowing caramel hair reflected from the windshield sunlight.

  
"It's not your baby, Dean. You know, let's just go. Uh, no more 'I miss my baby' crap." Esther could tell that Dean's argument must have been about his 1967 Chevy Impala that was practically his pride and joy. Dean tapped his hands on the black steering wheel and turned the muscle car to drive, hitting the gas pedal until it nearly hit the floor.

  
"Where to?" Esther groaned, clutching her cut cheek lightly. Dean took out his phone from his green hunters jacket and tossed it to Sam who almost didn't catch it, fumbling with it for a few seconds. "Your apartment. You pack up and leave. These Leviathans will find you again, so you need to go to another country. Asap, Esther." Her hands shook wildly and she didn't want to leave her life behind that she had almost finished.

  
Her free tuition, friends, and life she had fought so hard to have crumbled in her hands in just one day. The memory of her father slowly passed through her thoughts again. But more of the vague memory came back go her as the car drove on. _'She'll remember in time. I mean, she's Loki's daughter, eh?? But the Grace. You should be glad I hid it. It'll take time for her to find, but it'll keep her fighting...'_ From grace to Loki, Esther didn't know what exactly her father meant by her words.

  
But, she knew one thing her father taught her; stay strong. With her arms at her sides, she made up her mind and tried to speak as bravely as she could muster. "I-I don't have any problem staying, Dean. I'd like to fight the Leviathans with you." Dean jerked his body around and raised a large eyebrow, pursing his lips.

  
"Listen, Esther. I'm glad you didn't die back there... But the only person i trust right now is Sam. Having you with us is a risk I'm not going to take." Sam gave a small scoff and turned to Dean with a disappointed expression upon his thin face. "Dean. She just saw her friend eaten by a Leviathan, saw the Leviathan turn into her friend, and was tortured by someone who looked like her friend. And you're going to take her to her apartment and make her leave the university. You want her to leave the damn country! Give her a chance, Dean."

Dean sighed and stared at the road, pretending he ignored Sam's argument. Esther wanted to smile and thank Sam, but due to the series of unfortunate events that occurred in the past two days, nothing would cheer her up for a long, long time. "Fine," was all Dean replied. The conversation closed like a cold case, and not a word was spoken until the GTO pulled up to Esther's apartment.

Students that lived on or near the campus were mostly heading to their usual Saturday evening university parties, even though it was only 6. "Here?" Dean asked, as the gears grinded to a halt, stopping the wheels in between the two yellow parking lines. The boys exited the car, leaving Esther to ask a question as Sam opened her door.

"What are we going to do now?" She sat on the leather seat, unmoving because her arms were two large and heavy bricks at her side. Sam pulled her out while Dean took out a flask out of the trunk, not speaking of the contents inside. "You're gonna stay with us, Esther," Sam said.


	5. The Truth

Esther picked the lock of her apartment since her personal electronics had been left at Jimmy's Tavern. "How long was I out?" She had asked Sam while he wrapped her arms with gauze, almost looking like a professional nurse from the countless amount of times he had bandaged himself or his brother. "Nice wraps," she had pointed out, impressed by his nimble fingers hastily working at her injury. Sam smiled and gave a soft chuckle, his golden-brown eyes crinkled. She could get used to seeing him like that.

Dean had taken over picking the three locks to her apartment door. Esther was the paranoid roommate, not Luca. Luca could care less about her own safety. After all, she didn't live in her apartment as often as she stayed with Steve. Esther only hoped that Luca was in the safe arms of Steve, away from her conundrum. The locks all clicked loudly which gave the signal for Dean to put away his lock picker and pull out his pistol from the back of his belt safely hidden by his navy windbreaker.With a grunt and a push of his shoulder, Dean entered the apartment's living room, fully prepared for anything to pop out and try to kill him. Esther stayed behind Sam, unfortunately unable to defend herself at the moment.

"Sammy," Dean mouthed, giving signals for him to tip-toe into the kitchen while he checked the hallway and bedrooms. It was deathly quiet, not even a creak of the oak wood would muster a sound. So far, everything seemed in order, Esther's belongings in ship-shape. Her small succulents were soaking in the sunlight with their little lime green raindrop-shaped leaves eager to see more sun. Dean looked at them and just turned away, not giving them another glance.

Esther leaned against the small white counter and sighed. Her head began to spin again, so she concentrated on breathing while Sam checked out the living room in case he missed something or someone lurking in the shadows. Her throat felt like a barren wasteland full of sand and tried clearing her throat as soft as she could. But, she received a glare from Sam. "Esther," he hissed.

Esther looked up at Sam who held his pistol against his breast, hurrying back in the kitchen. "What?" She whispered, alert from Sam's raised eyebrows and down turned mouth. His head jerked toward the apartment door and his feet shuffled so that he could be behind Esther. "Well thanks for defending me, Sam." The doorknob of Esther's apartment twisted slowly, and the door was pushed open. Esther stood tall, facing the stranger with a brave complexion and stubborn demeanor.

Blonde hair and bright blue eyes revealed the stranger to be Luca. Esther lost her "trying-to-be intimidating" look, and smiled. Luca threw her bag onto the nearest couch and eyed Esther. For once in her life, Luca looked scared and her body froze. Glancing between Sam and Esther, Luca threw up her hands and shouted, "Please don't hurt me, Robber! I don't have anything you want!" She began to frantically grab her purse from the couch and push it to Sam, staying kneeled on the ground and her hands still up in the air. 

Sam frowned, confused why she thought that he was a robber until it dawned on him that he was still holding the pistol that was aiming at Luca. He was standing right behind Esther which made it look even more that Sam was holding her as a hostage. "H-hey, I'm not-" Esther quickly cut Sam off with her own attempt at calming Luca down. Esther held out her hands in an attempt to keep her blonde friend cool at the moment.

"Luca? It's alright. He's a friend," Esther said slowly, turning around to face Sam and made a few motions with her head to try and get him to put the gun away. But Sam didn't lower the gun. "We don't know if she's a Leviathan." Keeping his guard up, Sam clenched the gun and gestured to the rack of cutting knives on the counter. 

Either you cut yourself or you pour a little bit of Borax on your skin." Esther's eyes widened until it almost looked like her eyeballs were about to pop right out of her skull. "What?" She shrieked, her breathing fast paced and her anxiety levels increasing. She was about to intervene between the Sam and Luca moment when Dean threw the contained liquid of his silver flask on Luca. No smoke, no steam, and no screams. Luca was not a Leviathan, she was extremely pissed that he had just doused her in chemicals. Her blue lacy shirt was now splattered in borax, the apartment now smelling of chemicals and a plant-y odor.

Luca, confused and utterly terrified, smacked Dean across his scruffy cheek as a payback for the ruined article of clothing. "Okay, what is going on?" Luca screamed, unable to pick one person to look at for an explanation. Her fists clenched, awaited a response. Dean cupped his cheek, surprised that Luca could throw a hit. Esther was quite glad to have her for a room-mate, but she had other things to think about. She ripped off three paper towels from the dispenser in the corner of the kitchen with her teeth so that she gave a break from her arms until she had to mop up what Borax did not cling to Luca's clothing.

"There's an explanation to this, but you won't like it." Dean stuffed his old pistol into the back of his pants, defeated but also quite turned on. He smirked and Esther caught his aura changing and immediately knew what was happening. "She has a boyfriend you know." Dean's eyes widened, and stepped back from Luca. He was a little taken aback that she knew his plan flirting his way into the blonde's pants.

Luca's brows furrowed, and she put her hands on her hips. Luca may not have been physically innocent nor mentally innocent, but Esther did not want Luca to be involved in the world of monsters. She was just introduced into that world not even two days ago, so she did not want Luca to get involved. Esther shifted her feet and walked towards her blonde friend. 

"Look," she started, "I'm leaving the campus. I have to drop out." Luca looked devastated, and she had to sit down because the news did not take lightly to her. Esther sat next to Luca and mouthed to the boys to wait in the kitchen. Luca recalled all of the memories and times that she had spent with Esther at college. Sure, she was a little rowdy at times and she didn't have any classes with Esther, but Esther was a sister to her.

"Why're you leaving? And so soon-?" Tears wanted to form, her hormone levels were a rollercoaster at the momen, so Luca just dug her nails into her palm to concentrate. Esther's tongue threatened to spill the truth, to tell her that she was jsut kidnapped, but since Luca probably didn't know about Jimmy's disappearance and death since she obviously didn't drop off her clothes, Esther pushed the truth down her throat and formed a quick lie.

"My mom left the ward, and I have to move with her." It seemed legit to Luca, but Esther bit the inside of her cheek to punish herself for the actions that she put herself through. Why she was so compelled to follow the boys, she had no idea. But deep down somewhere, she felt like she was doing the right thing. Her dad left her $20,000 for college before he mysteriously disappeared, but she never used it.

Luca shifted nervously, and asked, "Why so soon? I thought she never spoke." Sam and Dean entered the living room and sat in the creaky beige double-seater couch. Sam folded his hands, Dean following his brother's actions. "We, uh, work at the ward where Esther's mother had been staying. We're here to pick up Esther." 

Esther's room-mate became suspicious, and crossed her arms over her ruined shirt. "Traveling all the way from Ohio? Isn't that a bit strange?" Esther forced out a fake laugh and made up yet another sad excuse that she hoped her friend would buy. "These two are old high school friends that work at the Pleasantville Ward. I'm glad that they took care of my mom while I was here." Luca's eyes softened and she smiled.

"Sorry, I thought that you were some con-artists just coming here to kidnap my beautiful friend. I was wrong." Dean smiled and Sam gave a 'what the hell' smile and locked eyes with Esther. Esther just giggled softly and said, "You boys want anything to drink?"

Dean nodded furiously and called out, "Hey, you got any beer?" Esther laughed and pulled out two different brown glass bottles. "Always. Stout, or apple ale?" Dean's face lit up and he happily replied, "Stout." 

 As Esther went back to put away the apple ale, Sam said, "I'll take the apple ale!" Esther quickly turned on her heels and walked back into the living room, holding the beers in her hands. She pulled out a bottle opener from her back pocket and opened each bottle, despite the boys arguments that they could open the bottles.

Dean tried to keep Esther's injuries inconspicuous, and Luca never did ask why she had a cut on her face. It was a normalcy for Esther to get a few bruises here and there because of her fights with horny boys.

As Esther gave the hard ales to the boys, Luca's smile began to fade. "Wait a sec..." Luca broke the happy moment into tiny shards with her actual intelligent question. "Why do you have guns and why did you pour Borax on me?" Unfortunately, Luca may have been stupid with an IQ of 100, but she did realize some thigns, even if it took her 5-10 minutes.

 "Oh, uh, I accidentally spilled some from my flask. We don't usually carry our guns around, but we brought them because of the murders that we read in the newspapers. Sammy here didn't know that Esther had a very stunning room-mate." Luca gave a large 'oh' and sank into her seat. Dean exchanged glances with Sam who took a large swig of his beer, avoiding the situation, Dean following suit with his beer.

Sam suddenly stood up and make looks with Esther, grabbing his beer. "Why I don't help you pack?" Esther understood what he meant and gave a curt nod. Tying her dark hair into a ponytail, Esther showed Sam to her bedroom. Sam set his ale on Esther's white dresser, and sat on her bed comforter.

"So..." Sam said, as he sat on the bright aquamarine bed and looked around. Pictures of Esther with her mother filled the room, and they were all of Esther as a child. Esther loved taking pictures, photos of the beach, the forest, and other scenery were placed around the room as well. Sam felt bad that her mom was in a psych ward, and Esther picked up on his sympathetic aura. She walked over to her small black cd player and started playing the inserted disk that was labeled, "Regional at Best" and played to song 08. She turned down the volume so that it was background noise, and stood across from Sam. She knew he was pitying her for her 'mentally disabled' mom. But it wasn't like that; her mother didn't speak in fear of not being believed or heard. She didn't do anything but sit in space because no one wanted to talk to a depressed mom.

"My mom isn't mentally disabled, Sam," Esther said. She aggressively ripped out her suitcase from her closet, trying to let off some steam. She could hear the faint lyrics of the song. _"Nobody thinks what I think, Nobody dreams when they blink,Think things on the brink of blasphemy I'm my own shrink, Think things are after me, my catastrophe-"_ Usually she'd let off some steam by going to the gym, but she doubted that she was ever going to visit the Bloomsburg gym again.

"My mom isn't a psycho. She won't speak because of her anxiety. What would you do if your husband left after you give birth to your child and seven years later he appears on your doorstep and tells you that you shouldn't have lived through the birthing? What would you do if you tried to tell other people that your child is special and your husband was a supernatural being? How would you react if everyone you told shunned you or sent you to a psychologist?" Esther's face grew redder and redder by the minute.

She hastily folded all of her clothes and continued to rant over her music. Her blue eyes slowly transitioned to gold as she continued, but Sam didn't take notice of her eye color during their little argument. "My mom was not a person to be pitied, Sam. I understand that your mom died while you were very young, but seeing your mother slowly deteriorate is much worse than  **not having a mom!** " Esther stopped before she could reveal anything else about her and her visions. Standing, she was taller than Sam sitting by four or five inches. She knew she was special, but she never believed that her dad was an angel. She'd never believe that. At least that's what she thought.


	6. Chapter 6: There's More to Me Than Meets the Eye

Sam towered over Esther as she had stopped packing. She needed all of her hygiene items, but that wasn't the problem at hand. Sam was extremely tall compared to the five foot four woman and her eyes turned back to blue as she slowly looked up at Sam. She tried her best to not seemed intimidated, but the physical odds were against her at the moment.

"How do you know about my mom?" Sam's light caramel-colored eyes didn't seem friendly as before. Esther struggled whether or not to tell him the truth. Standing on her feet, Esther decided that they should trust her by her telling the truth.

"I've been having these visions. They're of you and your brother. I saw your mother forced to the ceiling and burned, while you were in your crib. I only recognized it as you by your dad." Only the words slid off her tongue, she felt much better by telling the truth. Sam still looked angry, but his aura gave off as confused. "I-I don't know what I am, Sam. But I'm not a monster, I swear." Sam's thin lips twitched and he sat back down on the bed, utterly confused. He felt that she could read minds, or something like that, too. Sam believed Esther even though his normal instinct was to shoot first, ask questions later.

Sam adjusted his hunter's jacket and looked at her for a long while. Why did the Leviathan and Demon want Esther? Obviously she wasn't an Alpha of any kind, so she could be killed, and it didn't look like she was part of any pact. Perhaps she was just a psychic like him... He didn't know. Esther packed as much as she could as if she was leaving for a two week vacation.

Her toothbrush and toothpaste were the last things stored in her suitcase, but she wanted to pack a backpack, so she handed the heavy black suitcase to Sam who left holding it as if it was a small child's backpack. She could tell he lifted.

In no time, her earrings and photographs were neatly stowed in her grey backpack. Her room was empty except for her comforter; scenery framed photos and a few articles of clothing she didn't bother to pack. Her self-defense gun that she had bought at the age of 18 was jammed into her jacket pocket. Sam eyed her carefully and she responded, "I can defended myself. I took courses, you know."

Esther was always paranoid, and for good reason. She never wanted to end up like her mother, so she set out for medicine in hopes of helping people the only way she knew how. But to her, keeping herself safe and in good health was more important at the moment. Sam looked at her warily, but offered to take her backpack. He reached out his hand as a gesture to help.

"Let me-" "Nope, I got this." Esther smiled and slung her backpack over her shoulder. With a confident stride, Esther left her room and silently bid it farewell. Things were moving too fast for her, but she hoped it was for the better. Sam followed behind her and admired her stubbornness. Esther pulled out two cassette tapes from her jacket pocket and held them in her left hand because they were two of the most precious items that she had right now.

Sam glanced at her hand and wondered why she had two old cassettes with her and no Walkman on her. At least, he hadn't seen one. He guessed that she had seen that the GTO had a cassette player. He was right, in a way. She also kept them around because they were songs that her mom and dad had favored and created the tapes. Those two were both older than her, maybe even older than Sam.

When the two walked into the living room, Esther found Dean furiously flirting with Luca. Despite having Steve as a boyfriend, Luca still loved handsome men who flirted with her. Esther rolled her eyes and bent over to put her tapes in her backpack. Dean flashed Luca a mischievous smile and pretended that Sam and Esther weren't in the room. Sam sighed and looked to Dean with a 'disappointed, but not surprised' expression.

"So, what do you like doing in your free time, Luca?" Dean asked, with his arm draped over his knee, and his beer in the other hand. Luca giggled and tucked her long hair behind one ear. 

"Oh, I like to watch old movies, go out for drinks, and go to the beach." Dean's smile widened, and Esther had no idea how he could even be mildly interested in her. Then again his aura told her that he liked one night flings, drinking, and killing monsters. Sam couldn't stand to see Dean doing this again. He cleared his throat and got the flirting duo's attention. Their heads turned to Sam and he gave a weak smile.

"We'd better get going. It was nice meeting you, Luca, but um Esther needs to get going." Luca nodded solemnly and turned to Dean who gave a nervous chuckle. His eyes crinkled, and Esther got on her feet, slinging the grey pack over one shoulder. Luca rose from the couch and engulfed Esther in a tight, bone cracking hug. Luca then began to cry, and Esther felt the tears dripping down her shoulder and back.

"I-I'm gonna miss you, girl!" Luca stammered, and squeezed her friend even tighter. She never knew how tight to hug, so her hug always had some bones cracking. Esther didn't mind, because it was the last time she would see Luca. Sure, Esther could be emotional at times, but her last hug with Luca did not leave her in tears. She gave a sad smile and tried letting go of their eternal embrace.

Luca had other thoughts. "Wait!" She said quickly, and squeezed Esther again. She took in the smell of Esther's pungent smell and sighed. Sure, it wasn't entirely of lavender shampoo (since Esther hadn't bathed in three days,) but Luca didn't care. She sniffed and could smell traces of firewood smoke, leather, and peach. Esther sprayed herself with her peach perfume so she could smell somewhat decent until she took a shower.

Eventually, Luca let go of their embrace, and Esther lightly giggled. Whatever made her want to stay with Sam and Dean, she hoped it was for a good reason. Esther heaved the other backpack strap onto her shoulder, and faced Luca one more time. Luca's usual peppy sky blue eyes were now darkened by Esther's exit in her life. Luca never questioned what she should do with the now spare bedroom that even had all the furniture now.

She just sniffled, and waved a sad farewell to her former room mate and closed the door to her one last time. Esther looked up to the second floor where she lived with one of her best friends, and couldn't even bring herself to wave; she was too physically injured, and not mentally ready to bid her friend goodbye.

Dean sped off in the night, leaving Esther to sleep in the backseat. Her dreams were more visions, old flashbacks to when Sam and Dean hunted Lucifer, a man who tortured and cruelly manipulated Sam. More visions jumped to more recent happenings of Sam and Dean taking a case. In the end, Sam's little Devil on his shoulder put him in a mental hospital where maggots crawled out of his ham sandwich which weren't really there and Lucifer using a loudspeaker to deafen only Sam. 

Esther felt the pull to help Sam, to rid him of his insomnia and psychosis. But she was only a bystander who could not be seen in the moment. But just as things seemed to be at there end, where black-eyed men tortured and shocked Sam, a man stepped up. With Dean's help, the man with wings in a trench coat smote all of the demon guards.

She could hear three words escape the scruffy man's mouth. "I am Castiel." His blue eyes scanned the outside of the hospital, and once he was satisfied that he had helped all he could on the outside, he entered the building. He saved Sam who was on the brink of death, and with a guilty conscience, took Sam's burden. Sam was free of Lucifer's random smartass answers and free of the torture he had to endure.

Castiel sacrificed himself to atone for what he had done before, Esther also seeing his power hungry accident of freeing the Leviathans. Esther couldn't blame that he had done that on purpose, but it was still his fault. Esther slowly forgave him, but as she did, she sat up in the GTO, saying the name, "Castiel." Dean's ears perked up, and he slammed on the brakes as hard as he could. Sam's head jerked so far forward that he almost bashed his head into the windshield.

"What the hell did you just say?" Dean yelled, keeping the car still. If he was trying to intimidate her, he was doing a good job at it. Sam turned his head to face Esther, quickly realizing that she had just experienced another episode. But he knew  _he_ wasn't the one to tell Dean. 

Sam kept his jaw clenched, waiting for Esther to make the right move. But she froze and shook like a beaten chihuahua. "Mind explaining what  _just_ happened?" Dean's eyes narrowed and he looked in the mirror to Esther. She had to tell him sometime.


	7. Phone Calls

"Sam we are  _not_ taking her on a case," were the first words out of Dean's mouth that he was out-voted on. When Esther truthfully explained her past, (not specifically saying she was a daughter of a so-called "angel") Dean still didn't believe her. They drove for about an hour until they stopped for gas at the 24 hour convenience store when Sam won the battle of driving the night shift.

Esther stayed in the car, eyes drooping but ears alert to any sudden noises or conversations they might have about her. While Dean filled the tank, Sam ran into the store and bought a cheap mobile cell phone, knowing that Esther lost her personal belongings, and hadn't packed any electronics. She only had her taped and cd that kept her company.

He slid into the driver's seat, glad for once that Dean had let him drive since he was recently out of the hospital. Sam lightly placed the phone onto the middle seat of the car and hoped that she would like it. Dean pulled out his own phone, and started dialing a number as Sam turned on the car and drove onto the somewhat empty road. "Let's call and check up on Cas." Sam nodded but kept his eyes on the road. He occasionally looked back on Esther through the rear view mirror. Her eyes were closed, but she could tell that they were checking up on Castiel.

The dial rang a few times until a smooth feminine voice spoke. "There is such thing in hospitals called a lights out time. I see you don't respect that, Dean." Dean chuckled and held the phone in between him and Sam. On speaker, Esther could hear the caretaker of Cas speak. "Hey, Meg. How's everything in the loony bin doin'?" Sam gave a quick glance to Dean and frowned. He was three before, but his brother probably didn't mean to insult him or Cas.

"I know you're not calling to check up on me, my little bumblebee. Castiel is okay. He may look as dead as a doornail on the outside, but my little Clarence is a fighter." Esther gave a small smile, and although she didn't know who Meg was, she could tell she liked her already. Sam gave a chuckle at Meg's nickname for Castiel and turned to the phone.

"Well, give him our best," Sam said. Meg giggled and responded, "Oh, he'll need it." Dean took Meg off of speaker and said, "All right, well call us if he wakes up or anything." Meg must have said something to which Dean responded quickly, not wanting to talk to her. "Yeah, okay. Thanks for the help, Meg." He hung up and dropped the cell onto his lap. 

"What a bitch." Esther smiled and giggled quietly. Sam didn't react to Dean's comment, obviously agreeing with his brother. At least they cared for Castiel. The air got a little tense, so Sam began to talk to in hopes of relieving some tension. 

"So, is Cas the same, then?" Dean nodded and stared ahead with an arm resting on the bottom of the window. "Down to the drool." Sam pulled his lips into a thing smile. "Huh."

"By the way, how's  _your_ custard?" Dean asked, Esther realizing that he had been asking about his mental stability. Sam shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable about having to recall his recent situation in the psych ward and having Lucifer as his own little devil on his shoulder. Esther still remembered Sam's prison with Lucy until Cas took the burden. She could still picture Sam wriggling as far as he could away from his insect sandwich. It would gross her out too.

"It's alright," he said, sighing. Eyes glued on the road, Sam continued. "It's getting better. Just wish it wasn't like the damn tape from "The Ring". I mean, I feel like I'm okay 'cause I passed on the crazy." Dean tapped his hand on his jean-covered knee and sparked another argument.

"No, you didn't. You heard what Cas said." Esther did not like where this conversation was going, so she tried her best to mentally cleanse the tense aura and negative space in the car. Sam could feel the difference, and continued driving. "Let's- let's not. You know what?"

He was about to change the subject when he was abruptly cut off by Dean's phone vibrating on his leg. Sam sighed and eased the brake and stop sign. Dean picked up the cell with his left hand and answered the call in his gruff voice, masking anything that gave away that he was arguing.

"Hello." Dean waited to hear the person on the other line. Esther strained to hear the caller over the car's loud engine. 

"Hey Dean. It's Garth." Dean's eyebrows furrowed, and his usual glare down turned just a bit. "Wait. W-who is this?" He struggled to recall any hunter by the name Garth. But Garth assured him that he was the right caller. "Garth. Garth Fitzgerald the IV. We worked on that demon thing? You owe me one?" A small light bulb formed over  Dean's head and he patted his knee, suddenly remembering the skinny and somewhat strange hunter. Sadly, he wished that he'd never have to see Garth again but was unfortunately wrong.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, how are you doing, Garth?" Esther's ears perked up at the hunter's name despite it's unfamiliarity to her. "I'm ready to cash in that chip, bra. There's something brewing in Junction City Kansas." Dean inaudibly sighed. He had to man up and work with Garth, even if he could be a leech on his leg. 

"Yeah, well text me the details. We'll meet in the morning, Garth." Dean hung up as fast as he could and faced Sam with an annoyed look. "Who still says 'bra'?"

~~                            ~~                                                                                                                                             ~~                                   ~~

The boys drove to a motel near Junction City and rented the night. Esther insisted that she pay Dean back once she opened a debit card from her savings account, but both Sam and Dean refused to take any of her money. "As long as you don't snore, you won't have to pay for the night. Alright?" Esther reluctantly nodded, and thanked Sam for getting her things. Sam, as polite as always, gave a sheepish smile and said, "No problem!" As soon as the trio settled into the room, Esther began to yawn and stretch. 

Although she was out for 24+ hours, she needed 8+ hours to function. "I call sharing a bed with Esther," Dean shouted while he was in the bathroom changing. Sam frowned and wrinkled his nose as he looked up Junction City News on his laptop. "Dude no! You snore, and she is  **not** gonna want to sleep with that." Esther, extremely confused, snuck into the bathroom as the boys were neck-to-neck arguing. Again. "I'll take a bed with Sam!" Esther yelled out, not wanting any chance of the older brother trying to get in her pants. She even hardly knew the men, yet she knew so much about them and their lives.

Dean pretended to look hurt, turning to Sam with a defeated sigh. "You get all the girls," he mumbled. Sam chuckled and continued to scroll through the various news articles that the online website offered. Esther stripped herself of her clothing and decided that she'd only keep her jacket; the rest were inevitably going to end up in the trash. They were so frayed, torn, and covered in her own blood that they were not usable anymore.

The warm shower was inviting, the water enveloping her in its comforting arms. Some of the water had began to prick her wounds on her legs and she gasped, the pain almost unbearable. But she had to live through it, fists clenched and teeth grinding. By the time she felt clean enough her eyes were pricked with tears. Blood flowed into the drain from her day-old wounds and she stuffed the toilet paper to plug the slight bleeding until she got to her backpack where her first aid kit was placed. Esther quickly dressed in thin shorts, and a grey tank top for her much needed sleep.

She exited the bathroom to find Dean sprawled out on his bed, fast asleep and lightly snoring. Esther giggled and grabbed her clump of clothes, throwing her jacket onto the bed. Sam looked Esther up and down, noticing her bloody thighs. Esther whispered as she exited the motel room, "I'm just going to throw these out." She left the door open a little and jogged to the dumpster and grunted as she threw the clothes and ran back to the room. She may have been injured, but she was not going to get kidnapped. Again.


	8. Garth is Back

Esther packed her bag with her extra student ID, her extra driver's license, and a change of wraps. Because she was heading to the bank, she did not want to bring her gun. Dean and Sam were dressed in their suits as Esther wore casual; jeans, sneakers, and a white top under a beige cardigan. Esther looked at the boys and commented, "So you guys are FBI agents?" Dean smirked and said, "What if we are?" Esther rolled her eyes and slung her backpack over shoulder, unamused by the older Winchester's ploy.

"I've seen visions about you and your brother graduate high school, but never attend the Fed's training. Nice try, though." Dean shrugged and Sam explained why he and his brother used the fake IDs. "When we hunt a being and there's already a death, we use the ID for any clues to see what we're dealing with." Esther nodded, internally laughing at how the two had to justify a crime.

She was sure that she did not want to break the law except for good reason. Although the boys offered to make one for her, she declined and decided that she'd hold off for now. Esther hopped into the old car, throwing her backpack next to her. Sam got into the car after Esther, fixing his black suit blazer. Esther didn't mind the view, the men  _this_ good looking did not come by very often.

It was silent, only the slam of the motel door that Dean had locked. "You clean up well, Sam," Esther said trying to seem casual but obviously failing. Sam blushed and mumbled a "thank you". Esther pulled out the phone that Sam bought her; a black semi-smartphone that had two numbers already cataloged. "Thank you for the phone, by the way. I'll call if I need anything." Sam smiled and turned around, glad that she liked his gift. Dean stooped into the driver's seat and commented, "I thought gifts were on your anniversary, Sammy. You two aren't dating yet, are you?" Sam punched Dean in the arm and gave his upset puppy dog face.

"Not funny, Dean." Dean chuckled and started up the car. When everything was in order, Dean stepped on the gas. Tires squealed and the engine roared like a proud lion. The car sped off towards Junction City with the rising sun above it. Esther fixed her crescent moon earrings and shifted in her seat, the silence overwhelming. Dean noticed it too and popped in a tape album. Sam knew that Dean was going to play a classic rock album do he immediately groaned when it entered the car's cassette slot.

Esther, confused, looked at the boys. She may have known a few things about the boys, but she certainly didn't know about their eating habits or secret desires. "What?" She asked, intrigued why Sam didn't want him to play a tape. "Dean and his obsession with classic rock. Anything from Led Zeppelin to Lynyrd Skynyrd. He will name every album and date, not to mention the lyrics to every song." Esther laughed, her hair falling in her face. She parted it to the side so that her bangs lightly covered her face.

Dean put in the Led Zeppelin III, and began to recite the date. "October 5, 1970," both Dean and Esther finished together, who grinned like an idiot. Sam sighed and covered his face with his hands. "Now we have two rock-loving people. I keep getting more and more outnumbered." Esther laughed for the fist time in a long time, and really meant it. Dimples formed on his rosy cheeks and joy filled her heart.

Sam turned around and saw Esther's wide smile, and wondered if it'd be nice to invite her to join him and his brother. Permanently. But that was a question for another time. The old black car slowed to a stop, the brakes resting the car in front of the bank: Esther's stop. Esther snatched her backpack up and closed the door behind her. Facing the car, Sam rolled down the window and looked up to the girl.

"Thanks for the ride, boys. I'll call if I need you to pick me up. Good luck on your 'criminal FBI' work!" She waved them off and walked up the small stone stairs of the bank, with confidence high and mighty. 

 ~~                            ~~                                                                                                                                             ~~                                   ~~

The brothers entered the facility where the bodies were stored, stiff corpses with glassy eyes just waiting to be opened up and examined. They had gone through the routine too many times, and so when they saw a portion of the victim, their faces remained straight. The doctor, donned in white medical garments, escorted the boys to the body.

"Well, this is it. Gentlemen, this is Corporal Brown." The introduction was short-lived as the two looked the 'Corporal' over. Dean realized quickly that this was Garth in uniform, but did not mention that his friend was not in fact part of the Services. "Corporal James Brown. I'm shipping off to the A.F. mañana. I'm here to pay my respects to my cousin as I will not be able to attend the funeral." Dean had the urge to the the doctor right now that Garth was an impostor, and that the impersonation of a soldier was probably a criminal offense. Sam knew that it was a criminal offense, but zipped his lips. After all, impersonating an FBI agent was probably a worse offense than that of a soldier.

 The doctor gave Garth a sympathetic look and sad smile. "Must be horrible for your family. Losing two brothers so fast," he said slowly. It didn't take any time for Sam, Dean, and Garth to realize that the victims were related,  **and** they weren't informed about it sooner. Garth just nodded and added more emotion to his act. "Yeah, yeah. My aunt- she's, uh, she's real broken up about it." He swallowed and let Sam take over. He may have gone in swinging, but he realized quickly he didn't know some things, and that he might be digging his own grave. Sam and his quick thinking saved all three men from any suspicions or arrests in their future from the Junction City Police Department.

"Hey, Doc, can we see both files please?" He asked, preventing the doctor from asking 'James Brown' any personal questions. The Doctor gave a quick, "Mm-hm," and pulled the documents from the recently filed folders and handed them over to Sam. From the awkward atmosphere, a loud ringing pulled Dean and Garth back to the situation. The doctor's phone was ringing, an untimely yet fortunate occurrence.

The doctor pulled out his cell, checked the caller ID, and decided he'd have to get it otherwise he may not be getting dinner. "Ah. My wife. I'll uh, be in my office." Dean nodded and acknowledged the doctor's exit. It gave the boys a few minutes to converse and ask themselves what creature they might be dealing with. "Great," Dean said, as the door closed after the doc left the premises.

Sam held the files and scanned them for the report that had been completed, stating what was and wasn't missing from the bodies. Sam frowned and decided that it was a good idea to confront Garth on the missing information. "You didn't say they were brothers." Garth went on quickly, defending his hide because he was outnumbered at the moment. "Dude, I just found out about the other corpse and... started moving real quick. I'm sucking up info as I go." Dean raised his hand and gestured to the fake Army uniform that Garth was wearing. "What, are you allergic to a suit?" Sam looked to Garth's clothes then turned back to the files.

"No, I just... Look good in uniform," Garth argued, straightening his camo suit, hurt that Dean didn't approve of his fashion choice even in incognito. Changing the subject back to the reason all three were in Junction City, Sam Spoke up. "Yep. Same cause of death," he said, as he turned another page in the manila folder. Done with his analysis, he put the folder on the table and briskly walked to the computer in the organized room. 

"Right, uh, gutted at night in the woods, where the legend says the ghost of Jenny Greentree roams," Garth said, trying to paint a picture for the boys by relaying out his info to the boys. Dean pulled out his Electro Magnetic Field detector from his suit pocket and extended the antenna towards the corpse on the silver table. Garth went to say that he had checked for EMF but was cut off by the machine warbling that there was a high EMF rating near the body. Embarrassed, Garth stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked to Dean's detector with a little jealousy that his tech worked. "Oh, uh... I guess mine must be broken again." Dean nodded and compressed the antenna again.

 "Alright, I'm reading your mail." He put the machine back into his suit's inside pocket, hidden from view. Trying to get a clearer picture of the situation, Dean continued to speak and confirm his suspicions. "So, ghost of Jenny... Whatever?" Garth was quick to correct Dean. "Greentree." But he paused and explained his predicament. "That's just it. I torched her bones." Dean frowned and decided to play Devil's Advocate to see other possibilities of the murderers.

"Yeah, well maybe the chick still has something lying around." Garth pointed a finger at Dean, sure that he had done his research correctly. "Highly doubtful," he responded. "She was homeless. Plus, is it me, or is this less evil spirit, more monster chow?" Dean stood there with a frown on his face, the expression looking like Garth had two heads at the moment. "A werewolf?" He asked, his confusion slightly growing. He was sure that it was a spirit, the EMF warblings proving his theory. But it was just a theory. "Except the witness said that whatever was chasing victim numero uno was invisible." Werewolf was certainly crossed off the creature's list for this case.

 Dean laughed, stunned that it wasn't a regular monster. "So, invisible ghost werewolf?" Garth raised his eyebrows and tucked his hands on his hips. "Why'd you think I called for backup?" While Dean and Garth were figuring out what creature they were dealing with, Sam found background information on the brother's. Peering the computer screen, Sam shared his information despite how little he had.

"Hey. Either of you heard of the 'Thighslapper Ale'?" Sam looked to his partners in hopes of familiarity of the 'Ale'. Garth, however, did not think this a serious matter so he blurted the first thought that came to mind, not mindful of a filter. The boys didn't care at the moment. "Stripper or a beverage?" Dean rolled his eyes. "A beverage for douchebags." No one laughed, but Sam knew that Esther would have laughed at that. He didn't know why or how he thought that, but he reminded himself that if she joined the hunting business with the boys, that he would make her an FBI badge in a heartbeat. "Uh, number one microbrewery in the Pacific Northwest." Sam had read the rating correctly, and even Garth had caught the mistake in the phrase.

"But we're in Kansas." Dean shoved his hands into his suit pockets and shrugged, deciding now was a good time to put his two cents in. "Yeah, I rest my case. What's your point?" Dean's jaw was slightly set, as if he had hated the company just for its horrible name. 

"The owner is the dad of the two dead brothers." As things set into place, gears were grinding in everyone's brain, the room silent. Garth began to head for the door, feet set for the destination of the microbrew. "Right. I'll can the uniform, go fed. See you at the brewery in 40." He left the two brothers standing in the room with a dead guy right next to them. Sam found it hard to comment about Garth. "He grows on you," Dean said, somehow giving assurance that Garth was the right choice. _'Like a fungus,'_ Sam thought. The boys didn't have another option, so they headed for the brew by car and hoped for the best. Dean wanted to give Esther some time alone, especially to process before she ran off like all of the other girls, so Garth was a new distraction to keep his mind off of the love child of what could be a dangerous creature. Dean just kept his eyes n the road with a stern road and a squinting expression.


	9. Chapter 9: Meeting the Microbrew

Esther entered the bank looking a little under dressed, but was glad she chose to cover up her cuts and bruises with clothing. Men and women around her wore expensive fabric made into exquisite wear for business attire. A few women in pencil skirts and a collared shirt looked her up and down, only to receive a disgusted expression with a crinkled nose and down turned red lips. She ignored their presence and strolled up to the counter where the teller had just finished helping a customer.  
  
The clerk logged a check and looked up to Esther who began to pull out her banking materials and checkbook. The man had thick dark lips with sunken eyes and a slightly bald head, despite his young complexion. "Hi, how can I help you today?" The man gave a small smile and rested his hands to his sides, hands touching his suit. The tan man seemed friendly,, but she decided not to trust him yet. "Hi, I'm here to open a credit card through an old savings account." The clerk examined her bank number and pass-code, and nodded. Esther waited impatiently for the clerk to show her to his office. He beckoned her into a small indent of the bank and closed the door. 

He pulled out a folder and opened it showing it to her. "This is under the name Gil Sharp but is for Esther Sharp, am I correct?" Esther nodded and flashed him her driver's license. He accepted the photo I.D. and pulled out a little pamphlet with big, bold letters saying,  _"So You Want to Open a Credit Card!"_ Esther sighed and pushed the information pamphlet back to the teller. "I've done this before,  sir." He nodded quickly and took it back, placing it in a drawer until the next customer. "Oh, okay."

Esther knew this was going to take a while, so she held her head in one hand and listened to the teller's instructions and regulations of using the debit card no matter the amount listed in the bank. After about an hour of signing a few papers, listening to the man ramble on, and staring out the window, the clerk filed some information regarding her account. The moment of truth finally arrived as the bald man handed her the official credit card. "Now ma'am," the clerk began, "There is a deposit box linked in the same account. Would you care to have it delivered here from Ohio? For one hundred dollars, we can have it shipped here by  tomorrow. Any decisions?" Esther frowned, because that was something that banks never did. Besides, her father had been the one to open the savings account. _What would Gil want to put in a deposit box?_ She knew that there might be something about him and his 'powers', and she was staying over for another night. 

So, she followed her gut and filled out the needed information to get her package by the next morning. As she lifted the pen off of the paper to complete signing the form, she hoped that Dean wouldn't mind taking her to the bank again. After the grueling hour, Esther left the bank with her hair just a tad frizzed and the phone in her hand. She texted Sammy. "Hey. Just walking out of the bank now. Going to walk around until u text or call me back." She put her phone into her backpack and decided that she needed a new purse, wallet, and clothes to replace the torn ones. (Not to mention her computer she had to leave behind.) The mall was far, but a few department stores scattered the street which was very convenient for her injured leg.

~~                            ~~                                                                                                                                             ~~                                   ~~

Garth, Sam, and Dean waited patiently for a worker to show up, or hopefully one of the owners. Luckily, after standing on the business's doorstep for a few minutes, someone showed up and opened the door for the three men in black. "Agents. I'm Marie, I'm a manager." The boys filed inside one by one and looked around the very large building. Large metal canisters loomed over everyone, so Dean stepped up to the plate. Hell, maybe he could charm her a little bit to get more information out of the business to give up information for the monster.

"Thanks for comin' in on a Sunday," Dean said slowly, trying to get a good interview out of her. She smiled only briefly and showed the hunters around the facility. "We want to help. Anything we can do." Dean nodded and studied her long brown hair. Sam and Garth scanned the hallways like their normal routine, and Sam pretended to be impressed by the awards that hung on the wall. He could tell from Marie's somewhat pained face that she was the daughter of one of the owners. Well, that and she had said that over the phone. "So all this is your dad's, huh?" Dean looked at the numerous hanging historical items on the wall that related to the brewery.

"And his friend, Randy Baxter. They own the place together now." Sam raised an eyebrow and took a step forward. "Uh, now?" Marie nodded and gestured to the office where three men stood. "Well, since Dale died." Sam hadn't read anything about another death in the business. Something was fishy. But to suddenly change the subject, a loud argument began to take place at the doorway of the large office, alerting the three men.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on. You think I just come in late whenever I want?" The older man yelled, unaware anyone else was near to hear the conversation. Marie sighed, and shed light on who the angry owner was. "The charming Randy Baxter." The worker began to apologize, though it seemed that he came in late numerous times before. Dean hummed in response to Marie's sarcastic comment and spectated the scene going down. The definitely not on time man looked to be in his early twenties, perhaps in college like Esther was, maybe a freshman. But something seemed a bit off between the worker and Baxter. Dean nodded, in approval of the whole situation and how Baxter dealt with things. Sam could understand too, looking like a father scolding his son.

"I'll tell ya what. Congratulations, you're headed for the graveyard shift tonight. Be one second late and you're fired!" The man shouting, shooing away the disappointed, yet relieved young janitor. "Yes sir," the kid answered and quickly left the premises with the tools and cleaning supplies that he brought to the office. Marie gave a sympathetic smile and attempted to explain the reason for Baxter's outburst and consequence.

"He's actually a nice guy," she said in a hushed tone. "It's just not easy being the ax-man." Dean nodded quickly and looked to the somewhat attractive manager. "So true." Garth, the peanut gallery during the tour, had decided that he would help play a role in the FBI investigation situation. While Dean kept his calloused hands in his suit pockets, Garth gently gestured as he piped up.

“My comrades got you covered. So if you'll excuse me..." Garth made his way out of the slightly awkward atmosphere, with Sam trailing behind. "Yeah, I-uh I'll go with you!" Both men left Dean to his flirting with Marie and entered the office to interview the beer co-owners. Mr. McAnn and Mr. Baxter both inhabited the room as Sam and Garth made their appearance, so introductions were short. Mr. McAnn and Mr. Baxter were older men, most likely in their 60s maybe late 50s. Frown lines drew across both men's faces, painted by numerous hours in the office must have caused the worry lines. Sam attempted to look more sympathetic than he actually was. Sure he had lost his dad, Bobby, and Dean numerous times in the past. He tried to forget the thousands of deaths that he witnessed in an archangel's ploy. Changing his mind back to the questioning, Sam started conversation.

"Mr. McAnn? We'll be brief, I promise." Maybe Garth wasn't too bad at playing cop once he helped Sam finish what he was going to say. "Mr. McAnn, is there any reason your sons may have had enemies?" Both brewery owners frowned at Garth and doubted if the FBI agents knew anything about the deaths.

"We were told that they were animal attacks," He said worriedly, thinking the boys may have had been in harm in the first place to humans. Both Sam and Garth collected their thoughts for just a split second because their interviews always caused some grief or skepticism. They always waited to be asked if they were Men in Black, but were glad they hadn't come across that yet. "We just need to explore every possibility," Sam reassured, trying not to cause a heart attack. The men seemed to buy into the spheal for now, and so they tried to truthfully answer any questions. Mr. McAnn was very nervous and overwhelmed, his receding hairline was most likely from genetics, though. It seemed he was on the verge of panic attack, which was not helping the interview.

Mr. McAnn was ready to shut down the possibilities that his sons may have been murdered. It was more likely that they were murdered than an animal attack in Sam's books. "They got lots of friends. No," Mr. McAnn said, resting against the windowsill, his eyes on the wooden sill facing the men. It didn't mean that the boys weren't hexed, cursed, or killed by something.

"Well, did they work here with you? Like Marie does. Could someone be jealous?" Like an ex-wife, or ex-girlfriend perhaps. But Mr. McAnn's answer was still a resounding no. However this time, his nervousness drastically increased. His eyes darted around and seemed to be on the verge of tears. "N-no. Marie's the only one. Okay... No. Th-there's no... uh-" McAnn was cut off by Randy Baxter who tried calming him down. Despite the unappealed facade both men showed, they were downright scared and still grieving.

"Jim. It's okay. It's okay." He turned back to the boys, trying to let Jim relax and take a breather. "Let him get some rest. I'll answer your questions." Sam and Garth nodded sympathetically and gave soft smiles. "Of course," Sam said. Jim McAnn left the room to calm down and take his mind off things, perhaps with a beer of his own creation. He had lost both of his sons within a month. Sam knew that couldn't be a coincidence, even Garth agreed.

But one thing that Sam found odd in the room was an Asian crate, a steel blue-grey box that had already been open, but put back in the box. In the room full of American merchandise, the Japanese lettering and box was out of place. Maybe it was just him. After all, he was just cured from having Lucifer as his personal sidekick not too long ago.

Dean and Marie were still discussing the ordeal, learning about the third co-owner of Thighslapper Ale. He quickly decided that Marie was not his type, and shifted his brain back to the douchey alcohol name and questioned about Dale. There wasn't much he learned compared to Sam and Garth's findings. Randy Baxter seemed like he didn't have many friends outside of Jim and his family, so his life story was welcomingly spilled like a running faucet.

"I knew Ray and Trevor," Randy said. "Hell, I'm godfather to all four of Jim's kids. Ray and Trevor loved their fun, but they'd never do anything crazy," he said reassuringly. Sam was beginning to run out of questions, so he turned to Garth to keep the conversation alive.

"No rugrats of your own?" Garth asked, shifting in his seat. He was dying to try one of the company's infamous beverages but was never offered one. Randy shook his head and his thick salt-n-pepper eyebrows drooped a little bit. "Just Jim's. They'd borrow my car, raid my fridge." He gave a sad smile and leaned on the desk behind him.

Sam looked around the desk and spotted a frame of three men outside the very Thighslapper Ale Co. brew works office. Randy, Jim, and another man stood with proud gleaming faces, all quite proud of the work they had done. Sam put two of your started this company with a third partner-" Randy looked to Sam and nodded.

"Yeah. Dale," Randy said pain brewing in his eyes, standing up to rest by the photographs of his and the two other owners standing in front of the property with a thumbs up. Jim held a bottle of their beer. "Passed away a few months ago." Randy sat in the pleather office chair and quickly answered the question.

"He took his own life. " Garth's eyes widened and quickly regretted having asked that question. "Oh. Sorry," he said solemnly, trying to look respectful towards Randy's friends death. Randy shook his head and spoke more of his companion, gripping the seat handles. "Well he had problems for a long time. Look, this is just a nightmare." He paused and took a deep breath. "First Dale, now this. This was supposed to be a big year." Sam eyed the steel-blue crate.

"We're selling Thighslapper Ale to one of the largest distributors in the U.S. It's been in the works for months. News is gonna hit public pretty soon." Garth gave a small smile. "Well, that's the brass ring, huh?" Randy raised his eyebrows and sighed. "Given other circumstances, we'd be celebrating right now." The room's atmosphere was tense, leading to awkward silence that caused Sam and Garth to exchange glances. Sam believed that neither he nor Garth could get any information out of him, and so the two left with Dean to pick up Esther and meet later. 


	10. Party On, Garth

Afternoon Delights was a strange hotel that matched Garth's personality to a proverbial 't'. While the boys dug deeper into what they could about Thighslapper Ale, Esther leaned against the desk that Sam was using to sit his computer. The boys debated on what creature they were hunting. So far, the bodies weren't missing any vital organs, there were mo hex bags, and they weren't alive. Esther disliked Garth's taste in motels, but she really couldn't judge on first impressions.

Garth seemed to be pretty polite to her, so she didn't mind him. After all, she just found Sam and Dean and shared a motel room with them. Everything about the boy's lives confused but intrigued her. It was like living in a colorles world to find a red rose. While Ester stared into space deep in her thoughts, Dean and Garth argued over what they could be hunting. Dean sat on the red couch that had different colored hearts with its tails in a 'w' shape.

"There's a million things that go bump in the night. Once you throw in invisible, the number goes down." He picked up the small motel triangle fold out and grimaced. "Afternoon Delights? Really Garth? Don't you think this place is a little-" Garth cut him off before he could get insulted any further. "You want a nice hot tub after a day at the office. It's the little things." Garth changed the focus back to Thighslapper Ale and its mystery. I feel bad for those brewery dudes. You spend your life beautifying your world through beer. First a partner offs himself. Now two kids get ganked by unknown freakadeek." Esther popped into the conversation with a theory of her own.

"Could it be the partner? Coming back as a ghost?" Dean shook his head and shifted in his seat. "Doubt it," he said, "He wouldn't want to come back to haunt anybody anyway." That partner could have committed suicide to become a ghost in his "afterlife" but it was an uncertain 15% that he did that. Sam found a good online interview of Thighslapper Ale to share.

"According to this, Dale wasn't just a partner. He was also the Brewmaster." "Brewmaster?" Dean questioned. Sam scrolled down the page and explained, "He was widely considered a genius." Dean groaned and stood up, his prejudice against the brew was about to be put to the test against the cocky brewery. "That's it. No microbrew is worth what was it- _eight_ **Food Magazine** awards? Beer's not food. It's what whatever water is." Garth tempered with his EMF detector and received warbling back from the machine as it was next to Dean's flask. "A beverage?" Esther replied to Dean's argument.

Dean took a bottle of the infamous Thighslapper Ale and popped the cap, the satisfying hiss and 'plink' of the cap bouncing off the ground. "Hmm. Thighslapper." He looked at the bottle, hesitating over his decision. At that moment Esther was getting very impatient. She didn't care if he liked it or not, she just wanted him to just drink the damn beer. Dean leaned forward and took a large mouthful, and moved it around his taste buds before swallowing. Everyone looked to him, expecting him to perhaps throw the sipped beer in the nearest trash can without another thought because of his furrowed brow.

"Wow," Dean said, his furrowed brows raised in surprise. "That's actually awesome." Esther gave a small smile and sat on the couch. "Worth the eight awards?" She gave a small laugh after he glared at her. "Shut it," He snapped, but his glare slowly softened and he gave a smile. "Damn it, I'm not even mad anymore." Sam laughed too, a low chuckle that resonated in the room, accompanying his soft grin.

The team turned to Garth who also grasped his shirt to grip the bottle cap off of the beer. He tried the seemingly delicious alcoholic drink. However, he didn't remove his lips from the top of the bottle until the bottle was empty. He chugged a whole beer in under 30 seconds and only left the still foamy bubbles at the base. Esther's jaw dropped, Sam's eyebrows almost flew off his face, and Dean just laughed. He raised his bottle to Garth, and said, "Party on, Garth."

Garth gasped from the lack of air and responded with a drunk 'trying-to-be-serious-but-really-it's-stupid' comment. "I don't even usually drink beer. It messes with my depth perception." He belched so loud, everyone was pretty sure that the desk attendant at the welcome center could hear it. He then coughed from the whole beer he downed, and continued talking. "Especially when I skinny dip. Hey, you guys wanna hear a joke?"

Esther sighed, somewhat disappointed in Garth's decision-making. Everyone ignored Garth as Sam actually had something educational for the crew. "Listen to this. This is something interesting-" He was interrupted by a fit of giggles originating from drunk Garth. "Dude, are you drunk?" Sam and the other two were quite annoyed by the both sober and drunk Garth and wanted to finish the case without him. However, being the kind hearted beings they were, decided to put up with him for just a little longer.

"I just drank a whole beer, of course I'm drunk!" Esther sighed, letting the boys deal with Garth alone. After all, he was their friend not hers. "How old is she again?" She asked letting the comment linger for a little bit until Dean tried steering the conversation back to the Ale company.

"Something interesting?"

 Sam jerked up a little; it was obvious that he lost interest after Garth interrupting him. "Right, uh-" He was then interrupted by the drunk hunter yet again. "Hey can I have more thighslapper?" He slurred, reaching for a bottle on the counter but missing by a mile. He _was_ right. At the same time, all three sobers yelled back, "NO!" "Coffee for you, Tara Reid," Dean said. Garth giggled, belched, and answered, "Coffee with Kahlua in it?" No one responded to the drunkman and instead turned their attention upon Sam. He shifted in his seat quickly and began to talk.

"So, it says that Dale actually left the company two weeks before he died." Dean raised his eyebrows and turned his ears to Sam's theory. "Or maybe he got pushed out because he didn't want to sell. I mean, Baxter said the deal's been in the work for months." Esther listened attentively and tried to piece the puzzle himself. Sadly she didn't have enough information to connect with evidence. Neither did anyone else in the room, so she kept quiet and listened to Dean's wild "theory".

"That would explain the widow. She's suing. Maybe Dale had a bone to pick and he's still picking." Dean read Esther's mind, and nodded. Although she had no idea how to kill a ghost or why ghosts even existed, she just turned to Sam and shrugged. The peanut gallery perked up and added to the theory with just as much gusto as Dean had. "Right. So, maybe he's a spiritoo malo," Garth said, his horrible pronunciation ran down the girl's spine. She shuddered and uncomfortably shifted in the weirdly colored couch.

Before another word could be said, a radio feedback began to sound out of nowhere, grabbing the hunters' attention. Through the static, a voice born from an unknown source in the room played. "Unit to McAnn residence. 698 Dashburn," the female voice ordered. All eyes turned to the radio, and Esther's thick dark eyebrows raised. "McAnn residence as in Jim McAnn?" Sam pointed out. Drunk Garth stared at something and solemnly commented, "As in, let's hope for their sake our spiritoo ain't made it out of the woods." Esther pursed her lips, a new question forming on her tongue.

"How do you have a police scanner?" No one answered her question. the brooding men more busy on what to do at the moment. Garth slapped the counter with both bony hands and got off of the bar stool. "All right. Let's go check it." Although it took about 60 minutes to burn all the beer, everyone believed that it was going to be a long night. The interrogation was the hard part, perhaps even harder for Garth. Sam called dibs first before Dean wanted their fight for Garth.

"Uh, you two go. I'm gonna visit the widow." Esther had seen numerous crime television shows and wanted to put her extreme knowledge to the test. "I'm gonna go with Sam." Sam smiled, but Dean furrowed his brows and his downturned mouth expressed an unhappy reaction to their decisions. His face read, _'Seriously? Leave me with the drunk guy?'_ Esther fought back a laugh and smiled, her blue eyes looking like a crystal clear pool that rippled in the wind and glistened in the clear sunlight. Dean sighed and snatched Garth's car keys on the counter.

"I'm driving." He said gruffly.

First hunting case and Esther was glad she didn't feel unwelcome, an unwavering smile on her pink lips showered her appreciation as the two of the team walked out.

~~                                                                                                                                                                                                                         ~~

Dean and Garth reconvened in the hallway of the McAnn house, no happy person or expression could be found. Well, except for the alcohol-filled FBI agent that tried to look upset, but every minute he would crack an idiotic smile. At this point, Dean was considering leaving Garth at his hotel and finishing the case with Sam and Esther. Esther was not anyone she'd met before, not meaning he'd met other humans like her that were  coincidentally into the world of monsters that they couldn’t escape. That meant they’d have to defend themselves from then for the rest of their lives. Like him and his brother.

Sure, Esther was a new hunter-in-training, but she was going to be with them temporarily.  He figured that they would make their way up to Ohio, drop her off at her mom’s ward and then resume the hunt for Dick. He trusted  Esther as far as he could throw her despite his gut feeling to trust her. 

The men flashed their badges at the nearest officer who gave them a nod and walked away into the kitchen. Dean turned to Garth and whispered, “So?” Garth lightly shook his head and gave a disappointing face. “Place is clean. My EMF is a nada. So is this one.” He pulled out a second EMF reader to which  do you know raised his eyebrows and gave a paternal glare. “Yeah. I borrowed it just in case mine is broke.”  Dean gave a light “Oh,” and sighed.  He wondered what happened to his parents that made him this way. Garth uncomfortably shifted his weight onto the other leg like an impatient teenage gurl and continued the concersation. Thankfully, the beer was beginning to wear off. 

“So, uh... We still on the invisible werewolf?”  Dean shrugged and took a look around.  There didn’t seem to be in claw marks, half eaten hearts, or footprints. “Maybe maybe not,”  DEan said. “I can’t get test to talk. But I get the feeling she saw something.“ At the moment, test seemed to be the only witness they could rely on because Jim hadn’t seen anything on usual. He thought that she had a heart attack and was going into cardiac arrest. He was sitting next to Tess, his granddaughter in the living room, stroking her back. She was as white as a sheet, eyes wide and a  blank stare. After all, her mother had just been killed right before her own eyes. 

 Garth looked to the McAnn granddaughter for a little bit with a sad face, and said,“I’ll take a run at her.” dean frowned and asked, “A what?” Cars turn it back to his partner and patted Dean’s shoulder.  “Trust me. My special lady has twins.” Still confused, Dean tried to process what Garth had said. In the meantime, Garth walked into the living room with a sympathetic and sad smile on his thin lips. “Mr. McAnn?”

Dean understood Garth’s words and began to walk right behind him. “Special lady,” he murmured. Garth directed his voice to Jim who had a loving hand on Tess. “Do you mind if we speak to Tess along for a second? It would really help.” Mr. McAnn looked to Garth, and from Garth to his blank-eyed granddaughter.  He seemed that he could break out in tears at any time, his hands in his lap. “Honey, we’ll- we’ll be right out there, okay?” He pointed to the hallway and pushed himself off of the couch with a hesitant Marie right behind him. 

Garth sat down in front of the scared girl and gave a small smile, a gesture saying that he wanted to help and not to hurt. Tess eyed him warily and stayed still. 

“Hi Tess, do you want to tell me what you saw tonight?“ Garth started calmly. He did not get the response he was looking for, for test just shook her head and gave a little pout. Now if Tess was anything but an innocent little girl, Dean would be bashing their head in for refusing to talk. But he had to sit in the back of the room and just wait. Garth had a trick up his sleeve for Tess. Literally. “Maybe you can talk to...” Garth reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the surprise. 

“Mr. Fizzles!” Garth’s high pitched voice accompanied a sock puppet that Garth had made, for what true purpose was unbeknownst to Dean. Mr. Fizzles had string hair, blue button eyes, and red lips where it talked. While Dean’s face filled with disgust and confusion, Tess’s grey eyes showed signs of feeling safer. 

“Garth, why don’t we put the sock away?” Dean growled, annoyed by the strange act that Garth was playing. Mr. Fizzles shook its head, Garth being completely assured that his sock puppet would help the shaken up little girl. “Mr. Fizzles wants to help Tess. He wants to _listen_ ,” Mr. Fizzles said. Dean sighed, a little pissed that he had to talk to Mr. Fizzles, not Garth. So, he retorted back, ”Mr. Fizzles is gonna go where the sun don’t shine.” Mr. Fizzles made a scared look (as scared as sock puppets could be) and looked to Dean. 

“It was a monster,” Tess blurted. Now Tess had gotten their interest. “I believe you, Tess,” Mr. F said quietly. “Did it have claws?” The room was eerily quiet when Tess nodded, and it seemed that even the chatter of police officers in the other room died down. 


End file.
